


Strength

by CynthiaK2014



Category: Beauty and the Beast (TV 1987)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-29
Updated: 2015-06-29
Packaged: 2018-04-06 20:59:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4236408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CynthiaK2014/pseuds/CynthiaK2014
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In this universe, Catherine is indeed dead and Vincent has rescued his son from Gabriel.  But a stranger in the Tunnels catches his attention.</p><p>Originally posted in the zine called ‘Different Seasons’ edited by Gloria Jones in 1999 but revised and updated on 8 April 2001 under my pseudonym - Athea Holmes.</p><p>My very first fandom and I'm a purist (usually) so it's Catherine alive all the way and no third season romance with the lovely Diana.  But I got dared while at a B&B convention to slash Vincent.  And this is the result. </p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Strength, part one  
****************** 

Midnight and Vincent still couldn’t sleep. He buried his face in his hands and stifled a groan. His journal lay unopened on the table before him. It had been two weeks since he had returned with his son and still his hands were not yet healed enough to hold a pen. He needed the solace that only writing could bring but would have to wait for the electrical burns to cease irritating his nerve endings.

Flexing his hands, he stoically stretched his fingers again and again. It was down to a dull ache now. And the rest of his life had settled to a numbing routine. Vincent sighed wearily and rose to go to bed. But his muscles ached from disuse and suddenly thoughts of the hot pools flooded his brain. Small Jacob was with Mary this night so he was free to indulge himself with a long soak.

Leaving his cloak behind and taking only a lantern, Vincent strode out of Home territory to the farthest cave of hot springs. The Tunnels were empty and silent. Like his life, he thought resignedly. The last cave was in sight when a faint light from within halted his forward progress. He wondered who would be up this late. Quietly, he paced up to the entrance and rested the lantern in the niche cut into the stone.

Curious now, Vincent moved silently forward in time to see a tall dark man settle into the steaming water. To any other eye there would have been too little light to see but Vincent’s eyes were sharper than most and he saw clearly. It was Alexander Gray, a recluse who helped Kanin create new chambers. He rarely came to the Home caves except when there was great need. Vincent had been too caught up in the search for his son to find out much about the newcomer except that he kept himself to himself.

He was tall with broad shoulders and a chest devoid of hair. Muscles rippled under fair skin when he stretched and settled on the low ledge about two feet below the surface of the bubbling water. Just then he laid his head back and the long black hair fell away from the left side of his face and neck. Vincent couldn’t keep back a small gasp at the sight of the scars that laced his face and shoulder. The bather snapped alert and started to stand up, reaching for the towel by the side and turning his head away from the entrance.

“Please, don’t get out. I’m sorry that I didn’t announce myself sooner.” Vincent stepped forward, hand outstretched in an unconscious calming motion. 

The man’s voice was deep with a husky rasp that raised the hair on the back of Vincent’s neck. “Not your fault. I thought everyone was asleep. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Vincent realized with a shock that the man was apologizing for his appearance. “Normally, I’m the one who has to say that. I’d be the last person in the Tunnels that you would have to worry about, Alexander.”

His head slowly turned but he kept his hair casually falling over the left side of his face. “Vincent. Because of your features? There’s a difference between being exotic and being frightening. I tend to frighten women and children.”

“I am neither. We all of us carry scars. Most of mine are on the inside. It would be easier if they were flesh and might someday heal.” Vincent stayed by the entrance, afraid of startling Alexander further.

His eyes were deep violet and he seemed to look into Vincent’s soul before a half smile crossed his lips and he nodded. “Inner scars never really heal. They just scab over until the next time someone wants to rip out your heart. My scars are as healed as they are ever going to be. I am willing to share . . .” His gesture took in the hot pool and the welcoming steam.

Vincent hesitated but he was determined not to give Alexander the impression that he didn’t want his company. Those eyes were closed now, giving him the privacy he needed to strip off his clothes and ease into the heated water. The silence might have been oppressive but somehow, it wasn’t. Instead, Vincent felt a sense of companionship that had been missing in his life.

For a few moments, Vincent sat tensely, waiting for the questions that it seemed everyone asked sooner or later. How are you, Vincent? How is little Jacob? How soon are you going to put Catherine behind you and join in again? Not that they ever asked the last question, except with their eyes. But Alexander had the gift of silence and gradually Vincent relaxed into the steaming water.

After ten minutes had passed, he felt those eyes on him again. He met the gaze openly and got a half smile in return, the husky murmur like the water that bubbled from below. “The sooner you can join us in the lower chambers, the better, Vincent. I can only hew so much rock. Kanin is needed in the repairs to the Great Hall. He says you’re worth your weight in muscle and now that I’ve seen you, I think he may be right.”

Vincent brought his hands out of the water and flexed them. “The burns are healing but slowly. It will still be two weeks or more before I can be of any use.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Kanin says you can feel the rock and how it lies. There’s something . . .” Alexander’s voice trailed off.

“I need no hands to come and look over your current location.” Vincent welcomed the spark of curiosity that he hadn’t felt for a long time.

Alexander cocked his head, the black curtain of hair sliding away from the scars. “It would be good to have a second opinion. I hesitate to use the explosives that I normally would. The stone feels . . . different.”

“What level are you working?”

“D level, beyond the Cavern of Winds.”

“I hadn’t realized we’d gone so low.” Vincent was beginning to wonder what else he’d missed in his grieving.

Alexander shrugged with that half grin that Vincent was beginning to recognize. “Good storage there. The temperature never goes above fifty degrees.”

“You’re not living down there, are you?” Vincent only realized how personal the question was after he couldn’t take it back. He never asked questions like that. What was wrong with him?

“Not quite.” Alexander chuckled. “But I’m not far off the Cavern of Winds. I hollowed out a very snug barrow on level C, just off the main staircase. Not much foot traffic out my way and it’s quiet.”

“Something the Home Chambers are not?” It was not really a question and they shared a companionable smile.

Half an hour later, Vincent was on his way back to bed, already planning a trip to the lower levels the next day. Settling under the pile of blankets, he fell asleep for the first time in months without any tossing and turning.

***** 

He awoke with a feeling of anticipation but for a moment he couldn’t remember why. Then the memory of his soak with Alexander came to the fore and he felt again the stirring of curiosity about the stranger. He needed to ask Kanin about his helper. Checking on his son, he fed him his breakfast of mashed bananas. He dealt with his duties with a vigor that had been lacking for weeks before leaving small Jacob with Mary and heading to the Great Hall.

Kanin was working on the rear wall where a series of cracks had started to appear. He was carefully applying cement and inserting steel pitons at the stress points. “Vincent, it’s good to see you.”

“I brought you some of Olivia’s muffins. She is worried that you are working too hard.” Vincent laid the well-filled basket on the table and gestured towards the bench.

“Ah, she knows my weakness, Vincent.” Kanin laid down his hammer and joined him.

Vincent knew the mason’s eyes were assessing him, much as he would assess a stone before he stressed it. “I am better, Kanin, a little better each day. But I must admit it is my curiosity that brings me here today.”

“It’s about time.” Kanin grinned at Vincent’s startled look. “You’ve been in a daze for months now. We’ve all been tempting you with this and that but up to now, nothing’s worked. What got your attention?”

Vincent explained his meeting with Alexander and watched a rueful smile cross Kanin’s lips. “I should have known. He’s a bit of a mystery, an old Marine friend of helper Jack Nebbins. We needed some explosives and Jack was our main handler. But when he broke his leg, Jack couldn’t get to us. Alex was in town and at a loose end so Jack proposed him for helper status. Joe Maxwell checked him out for us and he came up clean.”

Kanin took a muffin apart and chewed slowly while Vincent waited impatiently. “Jack told him about us and he agreed to help. It was that level B problem with the West Side subway conduit. Alex came down and spent about a week with me. Ate and slept at the site. I’ve never seen anyone so single-minded, except for you, of course.”

Vincent wrinkled his nose at his old friend. “A positive trait, Kanin, especially when one is an explosives expert.”

Kanin laughed. “And he is that. He solved the problem very elegantly and with a minimum of effort and fuss. A little C4 in two places and we blocked the corridor that could have given us big trouble but without losing access to the tunnel just beyond. After that, he asked Father’s permission to explore below and I volunteered to be his sponsor. We can always use another pair of hands to carve out new rooms.”

“But why level C for his living quarters? With you as sponsor, he could have settled near you?”

Kanin chewed reflectively for a long moment. “You’ve seen his scars, an explosion gone wrong many years ago. I got the impression that since he left the service, he’s been drifting about, looking for the same feeling of family that he had there. But Above goes a lot by appearances and his is against him. He feels safe here but still very sensitive about how he appears to others.”

He sighed and finished his muffin. “It doesn’t help that one of the first people he met after he’d been here a day was Sally Green. She reacted to him like he was the Devil himself, screaming and cringing. So far, Alex has been to my home once for dinner and once to the dispensary for Father to dress a cut. But that’s it. I didn’t even know he knew about the Hot Pool.”

Vincent drank a cup of tea from the flask that Olivia had thoughtfully provided. Mrs. Green was a relative newcomer to the Tunnels herself and it was unfortunate that she’d been allowed to scare Alexander away.

“Now, what’s this about level D?” Kanin broke into his thoughts.

“I’m going down after English class. He said he didn’t know the stone and he hesitated to use explosives. I admit to being curious.” He smiled shyly as if admitting a great sin.

“Good. That will save me a trip. Let me know what you find out. I should be done here in another two days. Tell him I’ll be down to help then.”

***** 

Vincent strode briskly down the staircase in the Chamber of Winds, after standing at the top to savor the tornado of wind and wound for a long moment. When was the last time he had visited here just to feel the power of this place? He felt the wind scouring him clean of all the sorrow and pain of loss. Following the directions that Alexander had given him, he soon heard the tapping of a rock hammer. A single lantern turned low was all the illumination available in the side tunnel. Alexander knelt by an outcropping of pinkish gray stone, gathering chips into a cotton bag.

“Hello, Vincent.” The husky voice greeted him without its owner turning his head.

Vincent wondered just how good his hearing was. People rarely heard his approach unless he wanted them to. And why did he keep the lights so low? He remembered the single candle of the night before. But all he said was, “I brought lunch.”

Alexander turned and the violet eyes laughed up at him. “Well, then I can quit this sample taking and do something useful, like help you lighten your load. Back up a bit and we can eat it in the new storage chamber.”

Retracing his steps, Vincent stooped to enter the freshly cut opening in the sidewall and set down he basket for a good look. The chamber was roughly twelve feet by twelve feet but the height was barely six inches above his head. It had been swept out and looked ready for use. Alexander followed him and Vincent realized with a start that he was a good inch taller than he was. His head seemed to brush the ceiling but his eyes were half closed and Vincent turned down the lantern before setting it by the basket.

“Thanks, I’m a little light sensitive. Another reason for staying away from the Home hub.”

“No problem, Alexander. I spoke with Kanin and he will be joining you in about two days. What do you plan for a door here?” Vincent sat down to unpack the basket, motioning Alexander to join him.

He folded gracefully to the floor and sat cross-legged. “Good, Kanin said you have a carpenter who could make a door. I’ll send the measurements back with you.” He took the empty plate that Vincent handed him. “Goodness, it’s a feast. This beats an MRE any day of the week.”

Vincent hesitated while lifting out the fried chicken. “MRE?”

Alexander grinned. “Military slang, MRE stands for Meals Ready to Eat. Processed and packaged for eating in the field without heating. They can sit on the shelf for years and still be ready to eat.”

Vincent thought about that while unpacking the spring water, glasses, salad and cookies. “And are they edible . . . these MRE’s?”

“When you’re cold, wet and hungry, they’re the best things you ever ate, much better than dead bugs or raw meat."” Alexander shook his head solemnly; his black hair swirling over his shoulders then laughed at the look on Vincent’s face. “They were adequate, Vincent.”

Ducking his head, Vincent smiled, enjoying the teasing tone. “I think you will find William’s chicken and salad much better eating. Samantha made the cookies and will expect a fell report. She’s been experimenting and I’m afraid that I don’t know what kind they are.”

“Very, very like the MREs.” Alexander said with his half-smile. “I was never sure what they were supposed to be either.”

They fell to with appetites that left nothing uneaten. Vincent leaned back against the wall and stretched his long legs out before him. It had been a long time since he’d enjoyed a meal like this. The company had something to do with it; Alexander had no hidden agendas or questions. They simply shared a conversation about the history of this part of the Tunnels and the nature of stone.

“Tell Samantha that they should be called rangers, spicy sweet with raisins. They’re an interesting combination, she can experiment any time.” Alexander leaned on one knee with the other stretched out before him. His jeans were patched in a dozen places and Vincent decided they were his own repairs. 

Alexander shrugged when he caught his eye. “I’m pretty much a do-it-yourself kind of guy, Vincent. Even while I was on active duty, I was pretty much a loner. The scars and my specialty kept most of my compatriots at a distance except when we needed to work together. If I hadn’t had a talent for blowing things up, I’d have probably gravitated towards the work anyway.”

Vincent listened intently but he must have shown his puzzlement because Alexander expanded on his statement. “I didn’t blow myself up, Vincent. I went into a building after someone ran back in. I got caught in somebody else’s explosion.”

His look was grim and he gazed at the basket although Vincent was quite sure he didn’t see it. With his voice barely a whisper, he asked, “And the other?”

“He died. I sacrificed myself for nothing.” His voice was steady without the horror he must have once felt.

“At least you tried. You can’t always save the innocent . . . sometimes they die.” Vincent matched his steadiness with an effort.

Alexander nodded once and gazed at him calmly. “Like I said, I have a talent for blowing things up. Come and look at the rock. Tell me what it is and what its properties are so I’ll have a better idea how to handle it.”

Vincent spent the next hour examining samples and walking the stone corridors to get a feel of the area. He could name the stone but he also agreed to do more research in Father’s library. They didn’t set another time to meet but Vincent was already planning another trip before the week was out.

***********   
5 weeks later  
*********** 

Vincent walked slowly back after taking Diana home. He felt a great relief at Father’s safety and the renewed security of the Tunnels. His chat with Diana had been most interesting. She was a very intelligent woman who was going to make a very good Helper. Now, if only Father had no long-term side effects to being buried alive.

But there was something nagging at the back of his mind, an emptiness that grew with every step towards the Home hub. Someone was propped against the wall at the junction between the outer and inner tunnels. Hands in the pockets of an old black leather jacket, one leg propped against the wall, Alexander waited with the stillness of a stone statue. His head turned at Vincent’s approach, his hair whispering over the scruffy leather.

“Everything okay?” His deep voice traveled no farther than Vincent. And suddenly the empty spot was gone and Vincent remembered his promise to research stone. Building anew and creating from raw stone new chambers to hold life instead of death. All work that he could do, had done in the past, and would do again soon.

Jeffrey Coyne was a deadly reminder of the past but Alexander belonged to the preset and future. His throat felt tight and he nodded. Alexander smiled and turned to go. But Vincent couldn’t let him go just yet. “Wait.”

Alexander raised an eyebrow and waited but Vincent couldn’t think of anything to say. “Nervous energy?” Quiet humor lightened Alexander’s tones. Vincent thought for a moment then nodded vigorously. “I have just the outlet you need. Come on down to the Chamber of Winds. I’ll be you’ve never wrestled with an expert.”

His voice was deep and teasing. Vincent shook his head. “Wrestling? I might hurt you.”

Turning, Alexander smiled. “I very much doubt it, Vincent. Of course, I expect I could hurt you. So maybe it is a bad idea. Unless,” he paused, “I could promise to go easy on you?”

Vincent’s thoughts whirled. Father wouldn’t approve at all. And what if he did hurt Alexander? Why was the dark man so sure that he wouldn’t get hurt? Maybe a try wouldn’t hurt? Vincent slowly nodded and Alexander grinned before starting off again. Vincent caught up and walked alongside of him. After all, how bad could it be?

***** 

Vincent rolled over with a groan. Every muscle in his body hurt. Lying there under the covers, he flexed his extremities one by one, cataloging the pain. The friendly wrestling bout had lasted half an hour. Alexander had led him to a side chamber off the Cavern of Wind, one with a sandy floor that provided a flexible surface to work on.

He’d stripped off his shirt and boots, leaving only his jeans on. Vincent had removed his vest and boots but left on everything else. Up close and without the distraction of the steaming water, Alexander’s scars stood out in long sinuous lines of puckered flesh up and down his left side. He’d shrugged and dismissed them, beckoning Vincent to come closer.

The first fall had to have been a fluke, Vincent thought. The second approach was different but the results had been the same. After half an hour of being thrown to the ground, Alexander had called a halt with the prediction that Vincent was going to be sore in the morning. Well, he was right. It took all his will power to sit up and swing his legs over the side of the bed.

Cooing sounds came from the cradle behind the screen in the corner. Jacob was awake. Getting up slowly, Vincent crossed to this son and picked him up out of his warm nest. Jacob laughed and reached for his father’s hair, yanking on the bright golden strands. That small pain was nothing amid the various aches of Vincent’s well-exercised body.

“Your father is an idiot, Jacob.” Vincent crossed to where the formula was kept. The baby cooed in response. “It’s not like he didn’t warn me. ‘Better not take a chance,’ he said. But no-o-o-o, I had to try. And now it feels like I got caught in a rock slide.” Mixing the formula one handed had become second nature. He did it while keeping a running commentary with Jacob. Soon they were both settled in Vincent’s great chair, although he had winced when they sat down. Jacob was busy sucking down breakfast when a sound in the outer corridor brought Vincent’s head up.

“Vincent, are you awake?” Mary’s voice asked permission to enter.

“Come in, Mary. Jacob is just eating.” Vincent greeted his old friend. 

Mary looked tired, joining him at the table and wearily sitting down. “I’ve been up most of the night with your father. He’s having little nightmares when he does get to sleep.”

Vincent immediately felt guilty at his own deep sleep after the violent exercise. He hadn’t spared another thought for the after effect of Father’s being buried alive. “I’m sorry, Mary. I should have realized that would happen. You could have awakened me, I would have watched him.”

“Nonsense.” Her wise eyes gazed at him. “You needed the sleep, too. I checked on you late last night and you were dead to the world. That hasn’t happened very often, has it?”

Vincent thought back over the last few months and nodded slowly. He’d been so afraid that he wouldn’t hear Jacob cry that he’d taken to waking up every hour to listen for him.

“You and the baby are going to be just fine, Vincent. And so will that stubborn father of yours.” Mary smiled impishly. “I finally got the last word last night when I ordered him to bed. I stayed with him so I could be sure he stayed there. I rather enjoyed having him be so docile. It won’t last of course but I plan on savoring every minute.”

Vincent chuckled at the look of satisfaction on her face. “Do you think Father is up to enjoying some of his namesake’s company? I slept a little later than normal and I need to get to class. If I take Jacob, we won’t get any work done at all.”

“They never get enough of holding him, do they?” Mary smiled at Jacob’s loud belch from over Vincent’s shoulder. “I think he’s just what the doctor ordered. A morning of play will do wonders for them both. Let me take him now so you can get ready. You’re feeling better, aren’t you? I don’t think you’ve ever been this comfortable with me under these conditions.”

Vincent realized for the first time that he was still in his nightshirt and slippers. He hadn’t even noticed that he wasn’t dressed. “I guess I am. I’m sorry, Mary . . .”

She laughed and rounded the table. Reaching for Jacob, who came to her joyfully, she gazed down on Vincent’s surprised face. “I’m not, Vincent. I think that all our roles are being redefined after these horrible last few months. Who we are – how we see ourselves – how we see each other. It’s all changing, I think, for the better.”

And with that astounding statement, she leaned down and gently kissed his cheek before carrying young Jacob out of his chambers. He touched his cheek and smiled. Change, perhaps it wasn’t so frightening after all. With a wince, he stood up and began to prepare for the day. His class was planned and afterwards he was going to investigate the library for books on wrestling. If he were going to wrestle again, he would know the rules, not to mention some of those holds.

Six hours later, he was glad he couldn’t blush. The large paperback with all the pictures of high school wrestlers was a revelation. Some of the holds were highly personal and looked quite uncomfortable. The ‘crotch take-down’ looked too intimate to be allowed in public. However, Vincent remembered a fall that felt suspiciously like the picture looked. This was going to take more study. Filling out his name and the title of the book in the library log on Father’s desk, he tucked it under his arm and strolled to the nursery to collect his son.

Mary finished burping Jacob and handed him over with a smile. “He was good as gold, Vincent. Your father managed a nap without dreams with small Jacob curled up beside him. So, they’re both feeling frisky now. Take this one for a long walk and show him some of our beautiful world.”

“And Father?” Vincent removed Jacob’s grip on his hair with a mock frown.

“Oh, I expect that I can wear him out between now and bedtime.” Mary’s expression could only be considered smug. Vincent decided not to inquire how. He had the feeling the answer really would make him blush.

His feet took him to the Cavern of Winds. Young Jacob laughed out loud at the tumultuous cacophony of the whirling dervishes that swirled around them. Flinging out his hands, he tried to catch the wind. Vincent flashed-back to the first visit he remembered with Devin holding onto him while his younger self tried to catch the invisible storm of sound and pressure. Descending the stairs, he discovered his steps leading towards the room where he’d wrestled last night.

The sound of feet moving slowly in the sand slowed his approach. At the doorway, he stopped and watched in fascination. Alexander was moving in rhythmic patterns that flowed from high to low, using every part of his body. His skin gleamed with sweat but his breathing was steady. His hands moved in complex movements, which caught and held the eye. A low humming on the fringe of Vincent’s hearing made him turn his head to listen better.

Looking down at Jacob, he surprised a look of intense concentration on the baby’s face. His eyes focused on the moving figure; Jacob followed Alexander’s every move. Watching the muscles ripple beneath the fair skin, Vincent realized that Alexander was only wearing a loincloth. He tried to avert his eyes but they kept being drawn back to the long lean lines of the body moving across the sand.

He was all muscle from his strongly arched feet up the bunched calves to the rock hard thighs and narrow hips. His stomach was flat and Vincent’s gaze traveled up to the broad chest and rippling pectorals. He was completely hairless and Vincent couldn’t help comparing himself to the man who moved so gracefully before him. Vincent was aware that others found him excessively hairy. He tried to keep covered up but he’d overheard a comment or two that still made him sigh. Alexander looked like a Greek god come to life. Apollo or Poseidon. Or perhaps Hephaestus, the crippled god of fire. The scars were silver and laced over his side like a multi-stranded web of fine lines in an endlessly repeated pattern.

“Hello, Vincent. I didn’t think I’d see you again for a day or so.” Alexander’s voice startled him.

Vincent ducked his head. He’d been so caught up in his thoughts that he hadn’t even noticed that the subject of those thoughts had stopped moving. “I’m sorry, Alexander. I should have said something when we first got here but I’ve never seen anything like that. Is it like tai chi?”

Alexander nodded briefly before turning away to grab a towel and blot the sweat from his body. “Something like that, I learned it when I was seventeen in Vietnam.”

“During the war.” Vincent didn’t quite ask a question  
.  
Alexander pulled on a pair of jeans. “Yes, my first tour in Nam. I had three tours before Saigon fell. My First Sergeant sent me to a little old man to toughen me up. Master Wang threw me around like I was a sack of popcorn. He taught me what real strength is and how to use it. This kata is a relaxing one. There are others that are more active with kicks and lunges. I found I needed a little relaxation tonight.”

That was when Vincent noticed the darkening bruise on Alexander’s right shoulder. “Did I do that last night?”

“What?” Alexander followed his look. “No, Vincent, I got caught in a minor rock fall this afternoon.” He shrugged into a shirt with only a brief catch in his movements. 

Vincent opened his mouth to question him further but he recognized the unmistakable signs warning him off. “Well, I think we could both use the hot springs tonight. Would you care to join me?”

Alexander paused and gazed at Vincent. A long pause stretched between them until Jacob gave a coo and a bright smile at the dark man. He gave the half smile that Vincent was coming to expect. “Thanks that would be nice.”

“Supper in my chambers, first? Jacob will need to eat soon. And I admit to being hungry too. Are you ready now?”

He blew out the lantern and gestured for Vincent to lead the way. “Let’s go.”

They walked back in silence. Vincent had never met anyone so quiet. Alexander was like a deep well whose depths could only be guessed at. They entered the darkened chamber to find Samantha lighting the table candles.

“Hi, Vincent, I was hoping that I could help feel Jacob tonight.” She halted in confusion at the sight of the stranger.

“Thank you, Samantha that would be very helpful. This is Alexander. He’s the one who named your last batch of cookies. Vincent watched the two of them nod to each other.

“You had just the right amount of cinnamon in the rangers. I enjoyed them very much.” Alexander’s deep voice seemed to startle her.

She blushed and ducked her head. “Thank you, Alexander. I’ll be making some more tomorrow if you’d like to try them again.

He chuckled. “I’ll look forward to them.”

Samantha smiled and turned to Vincent. “How about I take Jacob with me? Are you going to eat in the dining hall?”

Vincent caught Alexander’s sudden flinch out of the corner of his eyes. “No, I think we’ll eat here. I’ll come with you and bring the food back. Please make yourself at home, Alexander. Perhaps you’d enjoy looking over my small library?”

Without giving him a chance to disagree, Vincent shooed Samantha out and grabbed the bag of Jacob’s changing things. Following her out with a smile for his guest, he planned what he would tell William. But he found he didn’t have to explain anything. Making up a tray for them seemed to be just what the burly cook wanted to do. Shaking his head, Vincent left young Jacob to his admiring fans and carried the tray back to his chambers.

Alexander was seated with an open volume before him on the table. Vincent waved him back to his chair and set down the tray of steaming food. William had exceeded his expectations. Succulent ham with sweet potatoes, fluffy biscuits with a bowl of honey on the side and a romaine salad completed the menu. Alexander helped clear the table before sitting down again. For a few moments, hunger held sway and both men tucked into dinner.

But Vincent’s sharp eyes had noticed the title of the book that had been laid aside. “Do you enjoy Shakespeare?”

Alexander’s gaze contemplated the black leather binding. “The texture appealed to my fingers, so soft and supple. I’ve never read his sonnets, just a couple of his historical plays. Henry V, King Lear, Romeo and Juliet. I picked one at random, sonnet 73.”

“Ah, that’s one of my favorites.” Vincent nodded in appreciation.

_‘That time of year thou mayst in me behold,  
When yellow leaves, or none, or few do hang  
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,  
Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.’_

_Alexander listened, his eyes on the biscuit in his hand.  
‘In me thou seest the twilight of such day,  
As after sunset fadeth in the west,  
Which by and by black night doth take away,  
Death’s second self that seals up all in rest.’_

Those violet eyes came up and contemplated him. Vincent kept up his quiet recitation.

_‘In me thou seest the glowing of such fire,  
That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,  
As the death-bed, whereon it must expire,  
Consumed with that which it was nourished by.”_

The eyes went unfocused and Vincent had the feeling that he was far away in both space and time.

_‘This thou perceiv’st, which makes thy love more strong,  
To love that well, which thou must leave ere long.’_

The silence stretched between them, Vincent wondering where Alexander’s spirit traveled. At the look of pain and sorrow in those eyes, Vincent cast his own gaze back down to his plate. A soft sigh came from the other side of the table.

“Thank you, Vincent. Your reading made it more real than the printed page could ever be.” Alexander went back to eating.

“One of the great pleasures here is reading aloud to each other and sharing our thoughts and interpretations of what we read.”

“Reading as a group activity? Interesting, it’s always been a solitary pursuit for me.”

“Your parents never read aloud to you?” Vincent asked.

“Which set of parents?” Alexander shook his head, the familiar half smile appearing. “I had six sets of foster parents between birth and seventeen. The last ones signed me up for the marines and heaved a sigh of relief when I left. The people who took me in gave me food and shelter and very little else. The public library where ever I was gave me all the books that I cared to read. The joy of reading came later in my life. I was too busy growing up and learning to survive to really care about books.”

“Father found me abandoned a few hours after my birth. He read to me often and instilled in me the same love and passion for books, which he feels. I am a lucky man although sometimes I forget that.” Vincent smiled across the table at the enigmatic man whose eyes studied him so intently.

They discussed Shakespeare for the remainder of the meal, specifically, the play Henry V. Alexander described a modern film version he’d seen recently. Not for the first time, Vincent wished he could see some of the movies that others spoke of with such passion. Mary stopped by and informed Vincent that young Jacob would be staying with his grandfather that night.

Her pleasure in seeing Alexander brought another smile to the thin lips. She patted his shoulder and thanked him for the material he'd brought down from Above. Vincent held back from asking what material but it was hard. He’d never had such trouble in keeping from asking personal questions before. His curiosity about Alexander grew by the moment. Why was he so fascinated by this man? His dark good looks reminded him just a little of Devin but his silence was nothing like his brother’s talkative nature.

He realized that Mary had left and his guest had asked him a question. “I’m sorry, Alexander. What did you ask?”

“I asked about the hot pool but you look tired. Perhaps another time?”

Vincent sat up straight and smiled ruefully. “No, I’m sorry I was so inattentive. I’ve been looking forward to the springs ever since I rolled over this morning and found a dozen aches."

“Wrestling can do that to you.” Alexander chuckled and pushed back his chair. “After the little accident this afternoon, I find myself looking forward to it as well. Should we clean up our dishes?” 

“No, I’ll take them down in the morning. We didn’t leave anything but bare plates. Let me get a couple of towels to take down with us.”

The walk down to the pool was made in companionable silence. Once in the chamber, Vincent took a deep breath and began to undress. His fingers shook a little a when he finished removing his shirt. Keeping his eyes down, he bent to remove his boots. Small rustling sounds told him that Alexander was also undressing.

“Oh, no.” A warm hand gently touched the bare skin of his right shoulder blade. He froze at the unaccustomed feeling. “You’ve got a bad bruise here. I must have done it last night.”

Vincent craned his head around to try and see it but his eyes met Alexander’s and the concern there warmed him even more than the touch. “I’ve had worse. Don’t worry about it.”

“You can worry about hurting me but I’m not supposed to worry about hurting you?” His tones were dry and his hand fell away.

He opened his mouth but couldn’t think of anything to say. His gaze was caught by the long lean lines of Alexander’s body, glowing pale in the flickering candlelight. Even the loincloth had been discarded and Vincent’s eyes swept from his feet up to his head without any impediment. Vincent blushed hard and dropped his eyes. He’d rarely seen anyone naked before, brief glimpses in the hot pools but never so clearly.

Curiosity sparked and he struggled not to ask the question that rose when he saw the other’s groin. He’d always wondered what circumcision would look like and now he knew. Alexander stepped into the pool, the long muscles in his back and buttocks flexing. And Vincent blushed again, hurriedly finishing his undressing. What was wrong with him? He’d been ogling another man’s body. His sense of the sanctity of another’s privacy seemed to have been suspended with his new friend.

Joining him in the pool, he sighed at the welcome warmth of the bubbling water. Finally deciding what to say, he looked up into the half-closed eyes across from him. “I’ve always been the strong one. I’m not used to another matching my strength. Sometimes, I hurt others . . . when I lost control.”

“So you try to never lose control.”

Vincent ducked his head and nodded. The silence was filled with the memories of all the people he’d hurt over the years. Why couldn’t he be more controlled? His mind whispered to him, ‘like Alexander’.

“That must be incredibly painful, Vincent.” His voice was warm and brought Vincent’s head up in astonishment. “Have you never allowed yourself to simply let go and just feel the moment? Are the others here so weak that they must fear your strength?”

“No.” Vincent’s thoughts whirled in confusion. “Father is a very strong minded man.”

“I expect that holds true for Mary as well. She strikes me as a very strong woman.” His voice was gentle.

“Like my Catherine,” Vincent said sadly, his memory replaying all the times she’d fought back against injustice and an uncaring system.  
“Sometimes control is highly over-rated, Vincent. It becomes a straight-jacket that forces you to act a certain way when it would be better if you just let it go . . . let someone else be strong for a while.”

Vincent caught his breath and remembered the cave where he and Catherine had loved. He’d finally let go all his control and she’d . . . He wished he could remember what they had done. “I did that once. It ended up killing Catherine.”

“I never said it wouldn’t hurt. But if rumor has it right, it also brought you your son.” Alexander leaned forward and touched his knee gently. “Why did you forget the breakdown and everything that came after?”

The events of the last year swirled through his mind in a broken pattern of fragmentary memories like a kaleidoscope. He must have gasped out loud because the warm hand moved up to his and gripped him firmly. “Let it out, Vincent. I’m strong enough to bear it.”

And from out of the depths of his despair, Vincent felt the words flow from him. By the time he was done, his voice had gone husky and his head rested on Alexander's broad shoulder. Strong arms cradled him while broad hands stroked his back in long soothing slides. He felt lighter than air. The only thing tethering him to earth was the man beside him.

“Feel better?” Warm air gusted into his ear and Vincent shivered, part of him wanted to purr. “Come on, big guy, let’s get you out of here before we both turn into prunes.” Alexander chuckled and pulled back far enough so he could brush the long hair from Vincent’s face. The violet eyes looked deep into his and whatever he saw there must have reassured him. “Thank you for letting me be the strong one tonight. How do you feel?”

Vincent thought about it while they climbed from the pool and he dried himself shakily. “Empty . . . but it’s a good empty like a wine goblet waiting for a bottle of wine to be opened.”

Alexander’s chuckle echoed in the chamber while he pulled on his jeans. “You have a way with words, Vincent. I envy you that.”

They finished dressing and walked slowly back to Vincent’s chambers. The silence was companionable again, filling up the empty spaces with quiet looks that comforted and soothed. At the chamber entrance, Vincent stopped Alexander’s leave taking with a single touch. “Thank you. How did you know?”

Alexander shook his head. “I’ve been where you are. The master I told you about, who taught me about strength? He was there in my moment of deepest despair. He told me that another would need me as I had needed him. And half a world away, here we are. Good night, Vincent, pleasant dreams.”

Vincent watched him disappear into the shadows of the tunnel before entering his chamber and blowing out all the candles but one. Too tired to even write in his journal, he undressed and crawled into bed. Wearily, he watched the candle flame flicker on his table before sliding into a profound sleep where all his dreams were bright.

***********************


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catherine is dead in this universe and Vincent has found a new friend.
> 
> Originally published in 1999 in a zine ‘Different Seasons but revised and updated 14 April 2001

Strength, part two  
******************* 

Vincent rolled over and slowly opened his eyes. The dream faded from his mind even while he tried to catch the images and impress them into his memory. A hand, strong and sure. A deep voice calling his name. He looked about his room as if he’d never seen it before. The dishes were still on the table and he watched a small gray mouse scurry across the oak with a few precious crumbs bulging out his cheeks. Smiling, he stretched and realized that most of the kinks from his wrestling session were gone.

He grew solemn when he thought about . . . what could he call what happened the night before. Breakdown? Therapy? One friend listening to another? He probed the memory like someone might probe a sore tooth with his tongue . . . nothing. The events of the last few months were just pictures in his mind. Something that happened, no more pain or guilt, just memories.

Sighing, he threw back the covers and swung his legs out of bed. Sitting there, he contemplated his feet and calves. They were hairier than most but not really animal-like. His toenails were clipped short and the faint downy hairs that dusted the tops of his feet looked golden against his pale skin. Flexing his feet made the muscles in his calves stretch too. At least his knees weren’t bony.

Vincent slid his feet into his slippers and reached for his robe. He should be thinking about his lessons for this morning’s class but his brain kept coming back to that clear space in his mind, the one left from the cleaning away of all the fear and guilt. The lovely freedom that was so new. He washed his face at the bowl on the stand and wished for the first time in his life that he had a mirror. Brushing his teeth, he wondered what he really looked like when he smiled. Did it frighten people to see his long incisors? They’d never scared Catherine. She’d always tried to coax him to smile.

Stripping away his nightshirt, he glanced down at his chest and stomach. A fine layer of baby soft golden fur arrowed down to his groin where red gold curls surrounded his manhood. Uncircumcised, the tender skin covered his penis in a sheath of flesh. It wasn’t like the sharp, clean look of Alexander’s organ that nestled among his sable curls.

Vincent blushed and stopped that train of thought, hurriedly looking through his armoire for a clean shirt. He kept his mind focused on getting dressed and succeeded in banishing all other thoughts until he was on his way to the kitchens with the dirty dishes from last night’s dinner. William accepted the dishes with a gruff smile and a full plate of eggs and toast. He joined Father at his table, setting down his breakfast before swinging his son up into a hug.

“Good morning, Vincent. Young Jacob knew you were coming at least five minutes ago. Do you think he heard you coming?” The dry scholar’s tone alerted his son to his curiosity.

“Perhaps, Father.” He handed the baby back and sat down to eat. “Some of his senses seem to be more active than the average child his age. According to the stories of my youth, I had hypersensitive hearing and smell at an early age.”

“Yes, we’ll have to be on the look out for that.” Father peered over his glasses at him and pursed his lips. “He cried for half an hour last night and not even Mary could get him to stop.”

“Really?” Vincent pondered the link between father and son. How close was it when the father was having a catharsis of conscious? “Were there any ill effects?”

“None. He stopped crying and went right to sleep, sleeping the night through.” He drank from his teacup while Vincent kept eating and trying to think of a plausible story.

“Perhaps, he has begun the teething process? Did Mary check for reddened gums?”

“I did, remembering the days when you began teething. Such misery you endured, we all walked miles with you until that first tooth broke through. Motion was the only thing that kept you from crying.” A fond smile crossed his lips and he dropped a quick kiss on the golden curls under his chin.

“I must have been a sore trial, Father. Perhaps Jacob will have an easier time of it.” Vincent smiled and drank the last of his tea. “I have class again this morning. Do you mind watching him for me?”

Father managed to look offended and pleased at the same time. “Of course, it’s no trouble at all.”

Vincent knew he’d only managed to postpone more questions and sooner or later he’d have to come up with some answers for his father. But not just yet, not until he discovered what those answers were for himself. His class was eager to take up where they’d left off the day before and the morning passed quickly. The afternoon was spent bringing supplies down from the warehouse where several of their helpers had left them. 

His mind achieved a certain degree of calm during the muscle intensive labor. He even found the banter between Cullen and Mouse amusing, surprising them by laughing out loud at a particularly silly quip. They’d beamed at him and redoubled their efforts. All in all, it was not a bad way to spend the day. Dinner was devoted to listening to Father and Mary wrangle about whether he was well enough to start teaching again.

When finally he was asked his opinion, he came down solidly on Mary’s side. Father scowled at them both but not before Vincent caught a twinkle in the faded blue eyes. Mary winked at him from behind Father and he was hard pressed to keep a straight face, gathering up his son and bending to kiss his father good night.

“Sleep well, Father. I’m going to take Jacob to the waterfall overlook. He’s never seen it and I think it’s time.” He paused a moment before bending to kiss Mary as well. “If he gives you any trouble, I’d take away his cane.”

Mary twinkled and barely hid a smile at Jacob’s snort. Vincent strode from the dining hall, knowing that he left behind some very puzzled inhabitants. Gathering young Jacob’s bag of supplies, he carried his son along the route that he and Catherine had taken so many times. It seemed that she walked with him this evening, listening while he talked to Jacob about these particular tunnels.

Settling them on the cliff above the falls, he watched while the baby’s eyes darted from one part of the landscape to another. The white water foaming down the cliff seemed particularly to fascinate him. Clapping his hands, he seemed to feel the display was meant just for him. Vincent chuckled and the baby chortled along with him. Sudden tears filled his eyes when he thought of how much Catherine would have enjoyed this impromptu picnic at her favorite site Below. Little Jacob felt his father’s emotion and patted Vincent’s face gently.

The low-level noise of the falling water masked Vincent’s whisper while he poured forth his memories of Catherine for her son. The baby listened intently, sometimes laughing with Vincent and sometimes sharing his tears. Gradually his words slowed and small Jacob nestled his head against Vincent’s throat, his tiny hand tangled in his father’s hair while he drifted off to sleep. They stayed like that for another hour with Vincent casting his senses out into the soothing sounds of the cascading falls.

The lightness of the night before remained in that clear uncluttered place in his soul. Such a gift the dark stranger had given him. He considered Alexander while he strolled back to his chamber, absentmindedly acknowledging the greetings of those he met on the way. What did he really know about him? A former soldier, explosive expert, a man who bore his own scars yet could still reach out to another.

He found his steps leading him to Kanin and Olivia’s quarters. For a moment, he felt Catherine’s presence, remembering how they had prepared the rooms for the couple. A good memory to treasure and tell Jacob when he was older. Knocking on the door, he wondered for the first time why he was visiting at this hour.

“Vincent, I’m glad you came. You must be psychic, I was just thinking about you.” Kanin opened wide the door and urged him inside. “Olivia’s just putting the little one to bed. Why don’t you put Jacob in the cradle so he can keep on napping? Then we can all gather around the table and talk.”

The teakettle was put on to heat and some of Olivia’s scones set out with a dish of honey to drizzle over them. When she joined them, Kanin got right down to his questions. “We’ve got a proposal to harness the energy of the waterfalls. Mouse came across an old book about waterpower and I have to admit that it sounds intriguing. Of course the book has a copyright date of 1933 so there’s sure to be newer information. Alexander volunteered to go above to do some more research for us.” Kanin poured another cup of tea. “He should be back in a couple of days.”

Vincent stilled. Alexander was gone. Why did that fact make him feel so cold? He shook himself free of the sudden fear that he’d never see him again and asked a question to cover his lapse of attention. Kanin happily expounded on the project and what it might entail. Vincent nodded in all the right places before slipping in the question that most bothered him.

“Does Alexander have a safe place to stay Above?”

“Hm-m-m?” Kanin looked up from his notes. “I think so. He’ll probably stay with Jack, you know, Jack Nebbins, the Helper who introduced him. He’s got an Internet connection and Alexander said there was a lot of information available out there.” He shook his head. “Amazing how advanced computers have gotten these days. It would be nice if we had one down here. Keep us in touch with the world without having to venture out into the dangerous parts.”

Olivia snorted. “And some of the tales I’ve heard tell about the Internet say it has its dangerous side too. Give me a book any day. I like my information in black and white with footnotes so I know where it came from.”

Kanin grinned. “Point taken, love. But Alexander will know if the information is good or not. He’s too intelligent to be taken in by false data. Remember that he’s got those two degrees.”

Vincent perked up. “Degrees?”

Kanin’s mouth was full so Olivia answered him. “When he came to dinner, he let slip that he had a degree in engineering from MIT and a masters degree from CalTech. He said it had taken him most of his twenty years in the military to finish them but the Marines paid for all of it.”

Vincent nodded. That must be why he didn’t have time for much literature. He was busy studying the sciences.

“He’s got a lot of ideas if we can just make him feel comfortable enough to share them with us. I’m afraid he feels a bit like an outsider right now. Your friendship is helping, Vincent.” Kanin smiled. “You’ve been seen together and that’s been talked about. But he’s very shy around the others, except for Mouse, of course. He’s so patient with that young man.”

“Actually, he’s very good for Mouse.” Olivia added. “He understands what that boy is talking about and can translate it for the rest of us. Mouse never seems to mind when Alexander corrects him or suggests a different approach. He’s a good listener and a good man, even if he is afraid of children.”

“What?” The question escaped before Vincent could stop himself.

Olivia giggled and cast a laughing look at her husband. “When he came for dinner, the baby was crawling around and headed straight for Alexander. He pulled himself up by tugging on his pant legs and the poor man went literally rigid. He was so pale that I was afraid that he’d pass out. So I rescued him and put the little imp to bed. He didn’t relax for almost half an hour.”

Kanin sighed and put his hand over Olivia’s. “I’m afraid his phobia is deep. When I mentioned it to Jack a week or so later, he told me why Alexander reacted the way he did.”

He swallowed the last of his tea and Olivia poured him some more while Vincent waited impatiently for the rest of his story.

“When Alexander was a young man in Vietnam, he married and had a child. It was just before the fall of Saigon and he was trying to get papers to get them both to safety before the south was overrun by the north. They were staying in a mission outside of Saigon with some Catholic nuns, which served as an orphanage for children of mixed birth. He thought they were safe there but the Viet Cong had infiltrated that far south and on his last visit, they began blowing up the buildings. While he and his wife were trying to help evacuate all the children, they discovered their son was missing. He’d crawled away in the confusion and back into the building.”

Vincent felt a creeping cold spread throughout his body while he listened to his friend. His vivid imagination painted the picture in his mind with copious detail. He shivered when he thought of what was coming.

“Alexander saw his wife running back into the building and he followed her. But it was already too late. Explosions ripped through the structure and shredded everyone who was too close.” Kanin’s eyes were haunted. “They both died and Alexander was left with the scars you can see.”

“And those you can’t.” Vincent murmured and closed his eyes against the horrific visions of noise and fire and death. Now he understood what Alexander meant when he’d said ‘inner scars never really heal – they just scab over until the next time someone wants to rip out your heart.’

“Oh, sweetheart, why didn’t you tell me?” Olivia wiped away a tear and then another.

“Well . . . he’s such a private man. It didn’t seem right until just now, with the two of you here.” Kanin leaned over and kissed her cheek.

Vincent cradled his teacup and fought back a sudden need to see and touch the dark man who’d held him the night before. Had someone been there for him the aftermath of so much devastation? Besides his kata instructor? Who had he leaned on . . . or had he just kept it all inside? The way that Vincent had done until offered a broad shoulder and an echoing memory of pain.

“Thank you, Kanin. It . . . explains some of his reactions, both to me and to certain events.” Vincent needed some space and he needed it now. “Thank you both, I’m very lucky to have two such good friends.”

“Come anytime, Vincent. If you ever need a sitter, just let me know. Two babies are no more trouble than one.” Olivia smiled gently and touched his hand.

Kanin snorted once before turning an innocent look at his wife. “I’ll let you know when Alexander comes back with his research. We’ll need to go over together before we mention it to the Council.”

“Agreed.” Vincent rose and gathered up his son. The baby snuggled into his neck and went right back to sleep. “I will see you both soon.”

Their goodnights echoed quietly after him when they shut the door behind him. His thoughts darted from one subject to another. But the one thing they all had in common was his new friend, Alexander. Remembering the pattern of scarring, he must have had his left side to the building when it exploded. Had he found his child or wife and been trying to shield them?

 _He died. I sacrificed myself for nothing._ Alexander’s words echoed in his head, his son. But what of his wife? Perhaps she hadn’t died. Then why weren’t they together? So many puzzles and mysteries in his life but then he might feel the same way about Vincent’s past. Of course, he knew a lot more since Vincent’s tortured outpouring of grief.

He puttered about his chamber after putting Jacob to bed. It took him almost an hour to write down his feelings about what he’d learned about himself and Alexander. Sighing, he laid down his pen and stretched. Removing his robe, he blew out the last candle and slid into bed, pulling the covers up to his chin with another sigh. Tomorrow, he’d think about all of this tomorrow.

And using all the discipline he was capable of, he fell asleep between one thought and the next.

***** 

Five long days later, Vincent looked up from the table where he was preparing his next lesson and found Alexander lounging in his doorway. He looked . . . tired and perhaps a little sad, Vincent decided while he was rising to greet him.

“Welcome back, Alexander. Kanin told me of your research trip. Did you find anything?” He came around the table and motioned him further into the room. “The teapot is still warm if you would like a cup.”

Alexander came in and sat with a brief nod. Vincent hid a frown of concern. He looked so pale, perhaps he was coming down with something. Grabbing the tin off of the side table, he opened it and offered him some of Samantha’s latest batch of cookies.

“Thank you, it’s good to be back.” His voice sounded huskier than usual. “I accessed a computer database from the University of Washington which had quite a bit of new info on some projects that have been going on in some of their rivers.”

He took a sip of tea and half-closed his eyes against the light. Vincent quickly extinguished several of the candles and watched him sigh. “Were you able to . . . is download the correct term?”

Alexander smiled and drank the rest of his tea in two gulps. “Very good, Vincent, I was able to download and print off the files that will be useful to us. I made three copies of each one so they could be shared among everyone who might be involved in this project. He accepted another cup of tea and just as quickly drank it down.

“Are you feeling all right, Alexander?” Vincent rose to fill his teakettle with more water for heating on the small propane stove at the side table.

“Just a bit dehydrated, Vincent.” He leaned his head against the chair back. “A couple of old friends visited Jack while I was there. I overindulged a bit yesterday. I’m getting too old for this.”

“You ate too much?” Vincent tried to understand.

A husky chuckle and a full-fledged grin provoked an answering smile. “Not exactly, my friend. Too much liquid and not enough food, I have got to stop drinking tequila.”

“Ah-h-h, a hangover. Father has a very good remedy for that. He usually has to bring it out after Winterfest for one or two of our visitors.” Vincent settled back in his own chair and waited for the water to boil. “Kanin is very excited about generating our own power. I must admit, it would be nice to be able to have more light in the class rooms and William would love cooking on an electric stove.”

“If we had more electricity, what else would you like to have?” Alexander asked while reaching for a cookie. “How about a computer to teach the young ones the skills they will need Above?”

Vincent nodded and started making a fresh pot of tea. “I must admit to curiosity about the Internet. Someone told me once that you can send a message to someone on the other side of the world and they could reply, all in the same day.”

Alexander chuckled again and began to explain e-mail and how the World Wide Web was revolutionizing the way the world communicated. He finished three more cups of tea and several ginger cookies. To Vincent’s eye, his color looked better then when he’d arrived.

“Here’s your copy, Vincent. I’m going to drop off a copy for Kanin and one for Mouse.” Alexander arose and leaned against the table for a moment. “That’s it, never again do I go drink-for-drink with my old friends. You’re my witness, Vincent. Not even if I’m invited to Winterfest, do I drink again.”

“All Below are invited to Winterfest.” Vincent hastened to reassure him. “Our festivities are open to Helpers Above who receive our candles. You ceased to be a Helper and became one of us when you moved here.”

“And if I left?” Alexander asked from the doorway.

Vincent froze for a moment then cast a quick look at the dark man. “You will always be one of us, the way all who have come down and shared their lives. Below will always be a safe haven especially for those of us who can’t live anywhere else.”

“A haven, indeed.” And with his familiar half smile, Alexander departed silently, leaving Vincent feeling that he’d missed something in the conversation.

***** 

A week later, Vincent chose to go Above to retrieve further information from Jack. It had been a while since he’d walked the back streets at midnight and he savored the fresh cool air of late Fall. The crisp breeze made him glad of his warm cloak and he held it close about him while he climbed the fire escape to Jack’s apartment. With a tap at the glass, he was welcomed in by the explosive expert. 

“Thank you, Jack. We got word that you had further information on the hydroelectric project.” Vincent carefully checked his surroundings with his sensitive hearing. He never felt quite safe when enclosed in semi-familiar places. It was a phobia compounded in equal portions of being within four walls and perhaps paradoxically of being in the open space that was New York.

“Yep, Alex left me his password and I’ve been checking his e-mail for him. He signed up for some discussion list that talks about alternative power sources. And boy, do they talk and talk and talk.” Jack rolled his eyes and brought out a denim backpack stuffed full of paper, setting it by his guest before heading for the kitchen.

Vincent’s eyes widened, wondering just how many pages there were but Jack was still talking from the other room. “Seems there’s some difference of opinion about how best to accomplish their twin goals of using a renewable resource with the least amount of interference in the natural scheme of things. Jesus, can they talk around the subject! There are two camps and they’ve been going at it hammer and tongs lately.”

He came back in with a tray of cookies and tea. “It’s kind of fun listening in on their discussion. The computer gurus call it ‘lurking’ and that’s kind of what it feels like.” He paused to pour the tea and offer the biggest mug to Vincent. It was the one with the over-sized handle that allowed him to get two fingers through.

“We certainly appreciate your continuing willingness to monitor the information. You can imagine that we have our own rather . . . heated discussion going on Below.” Vincent chose his words carefully and hid a smile at Jack’s snort of derision.

“You guys can talk a subject plumb to death down there. I’ll wager Alex isn’t taking any part in it. That boy is too quiet for his own good. I’d like to thank you for taking him under your wing, Vincent.” Jack smiled approvingly at him.

“I think you have it turned around, Jack. He’s been a true friend to me. Without his help, I think I would still be mourning for Catherine. He lanced my grief and showed me that it was time to let go of the pain.” Vincent gripped his cup and spoke earnestly to the gruff old man who watched him closely.

Jack smiled and nodded. “I expect that Kanin told you about Alex’s past?” He waited for Vincent’s nod before continuing. “I met him in a class I was teaching at Langley where I was teaching spies to blow thing up. I knew a little of what happened to him because his old sergeant had given me a call on what to expect. That boy was so quiet and closed up inside that all you saw were the scars. They were newer then and hideous. He always sat in the back on the left side so his right was presented to the other students.”

His eyes unfocused while he traveled back in time. “Gunny told me about the death of his boy and the fact that his wife was a vegetable in a Hong Kong hospital. He plumb worshipped her and every three months, he flew over and visited her even though she was in a coma and didn’t know him. He’d spend twenty-four hours telling her what was happening in his life and how much he missed her and needed her to wake up. But, she never did. She lasted most of five years before she died, never knowing that he still visited her.”

He took a sip of tea and refocused on Vincent. “That was about two weeks into my class. He went on a bender of gigantic proportions after he buried her. I never saw anybody put away so much liquor in complete silence. Until the third bottle when it all poured out of him like water from a faucet. How much he loved her and how it was his fault that she and the baby had died.”

Vincent protesting murmur made him pause. “I know. It wasn’t really his fault, no more than Catherine getting kidnapped was yours, but guilt doesn’t obey logic. Does it?” His wise eyes gazed compassionately at his guest. “He wanted to die in the worst way but he had a duty to perform. He was in my class to learn how to blow things up better than he already knew how and safely so no one else would ever be harmed again. ‘Course, explosives are a death waiting to happen and the blow-er all too often gets killed at one point or another because he gets careless or an unknown factor is involved.”

“Like rock that you’re not sure of.” Vincent murmured, thinking back to when they’d first met.

“Exactly. I kept my eye on him after that. I figured he was heading for a suicide mission that would put him out of his misery. But time went on and he settled down, had a fling or two. He showed me that he hadn’t given up on the gentler emotions, although he did swear off women. Said they hurt too much and men were easier to love and let go when they moved on.”

Vincent choked on his tea when his hearing caught up with his comprehension. Staring wide-eyed at his old friend, he caught the appraising look in the dark brown eyes. “He’s bisexual, Vincent, and has been for twelve years now. Do you think that would cause him a problem Below? Is it going to cause a problem with your friendship?”

Vincent’s thoughts whirled while he rearranged his beliefs and ideas to insert these strange new ones. “I . . . I do not think so, Jack. He is . . . himself. This is simply a facet that I never saw before. He is still . . . Alexander and my friend.”

Jack sighed quietly and poured some more tea. “I was hoping you’d say that, Vincent. It’s bound to come out sooner or later and I know that his friendship with you is something that he holds dear. He’s got so few real friends that know him truly that I would hate for him to lose one.”

Vincent drank his freshly poured tea too quickly and almost scalded his tongue. “I do not know much about these matters, Jack. I still have no memory of Catherine and . . .”

Jack nodded. “It’s all right, Vincent. I’ve always said that it’s the heart that matters not the body that it’s housed in. You loved Catherine and she loved you. You figured out how to make love and that sweet boy of yours is the result. Alex just discovered that making love with a man was as satisfying as making love with a woman. Love is love and that’s the important thing.”

Vincent nodded while trying to keep from asking questions that would only embarrass them both. Like how and what went where? And was it pleasurable? He could feel himself blushing and hoped that the dim light in the living room hid the tide of red creeping up to his hairline. All the questions he’d never been able to ask Father about making love to a woman, paled next to what he would say if he asked him how men made love together.

Jack went back to their original conversation as if they’d never talked about anything else. “It’ll probably be another week or so before there’s more data to pick up. Why don’t we make a date to meet again? But this time, I’ll come below. I don’t want to risk you to these mean streets too often.”

Vincent pulled himself together and agreed. Hoisting the backpack over one shoulder, he followed Jack down to the basement and the secret entrance that led to a little used section of tunnels. Saying his good-byes, he automatically followed the forks that would lead him to the Home Tunnels while all the time his thoughts spun around in circles. He dropped off the pack at Kanin’s and collected his cranky son. His spurious use of teething to hide his own turmoil had proven prophetic and Jacob was running a slight fever while his first tooth tried to poke through. He grizzled into his father’s neck, gnawing on the leather tie of his cloak with soft whimpers.

Olivia had rubbed his gums with chamomile and clove oil salve. Giving him a chilled pacifier to chew on, she instructed Vincent to re-chill it in ice water whenever it stopped its numbing effect. Reaching his chamber, he set about putting Jacob to bed with only half his mind on the familiar routine. Unfamiliar feelings surged to the surface of his emotions and he had to calm himself, lest his son pick up on them and grow agitated in return. Part of him was matter-of-factly accepting Alexander’s bi-sexuality while another part of his mind kept wondering how men made love to other men. He at least knew how men and women fit together anatomically.

“Oh, Jacob. I can’t even check the library for books because I’ve never seen anything like that on the shelves and I’ve seen all of them at least one.” He sighed and patted the little back under his hand while Jacob squirmed around getting comfortable. He used a comforting murmur to soothe his son to sleep. “And what about AIDS? Is he at risk of that disease like young Simon who came Below to die? Father said that it was because he was gay that he contracted the disease. I am so tired of questions without answers.”

“I see Jack has been explaining my life again.” The husky voice from the doorway startled him into an upright stance facing the entrance where the lean dark shape stood.

Thinking more quickly than he ever had in his life, Vincent blushed and spoke the truth. “I think he was afraid that the news of your bisexuality would hurt you here Below. He asked me if it would affect our friendship and I said no.”

“But you have questions?” Alexander hovered near the doorway as if unsure whether to stay or to go.

“I always have questions. I know very little about . . . making love to anyone. I still have no memories of my time with Catherine. I . . . I don’t think I hurt her.” He spoke aloud the fear that haunted him. “On the roof while she lay dying, she told me that we loved. She always chose her words so carefully. If I’d . . . raped her, surely she wouldn’t have used the word love?”

Alexander sighed and ran his hand through his dark hair. Coming on into the room, he extinguished a couple of the candles and sat down at the table with a gesture for Vincent to join him. “The consensus Below is that while you were delirious, she kept you alive anyway she could. The women are all pretty sure that you’d been the one holding back and while you were out of your senses, she took charge and initiated the lovemaking. The men all tend to think that you came to yourself and decided to make up for lost time. Stop me if you’ve heard any of this before.”

Vincent felt his mouth drop open while he sat down heavily at the old oak table and stared across the scarred surface at the tired face. He couldn’t for the life of him figure out how to answer the question of how much he’d heard of the speculation about his love life since it had never occurred to him that anyone might be speculating.

“Oh, my friend, if you could see your face.” Alexander finally smiled and leaned his arms on the tabletop. “The only person more innocent down here, excepting some of the children, is Mouse. You really do have questions to ask, don’t you? Why don’t I start and you can ask when something doesn’t make sense? I’ll answer the best I can.”

Vincent nodded and listened intently to Alexander’s matter-of-fact account of male on male love. He laid out the risks, the benefits, the variations and the differences between men loving men and men loving women. The brief digression in women loving other women widened Vincent’s eyes. Alexander was as frank as he needed to be; reminding him of one of the anatomy texts that Vincent had read in Father’s library. Tea was made and consumed while Vincent asked his shy questions and Alexander patiently answered. 

They fell silent after almost an hour of talking and Vincent sighed. Why do questions always bring more questions?

“I should let you get some sleep, Vincent. We can talk again later . . . when you’ve thought up more questions.” He teased him lightly.

“Thank you.” Vincent walked him to the door and laid a gentle hand on his arm, unsure if his touch would be welcome. “This doesn’t change our friendship, Alexander. I am very glad that you’ve been so patient with me.”

“Remember what I said about being strong?” Alexander paused in the doorway and covered Vincent’s hand with his own. “It goes both ways, my friend. Someday I may need a shoulder to cry on.”

Vincent nodded. “I’ll be here.”

Alexander smiled a quiet good night and moved soundlessly away down the dark tunnel without even a candle to guide him. Vincent went back into his chamber and mechanically undressed. Checking on Jacob, he recovered the sleeping baby. His mind stilled into silence. But what kind of silence, he asked himself.

Stunned disbelief? Disgusted repugnance? Joyful acceptance? He crawled into bed and pulled the covers high, rolling onto one side and bunching the pillow into just the right shape. Acceptance, at the very least, and certainty of the facts for sure. Some of it still made no sense to him but of one thing he was perfectly clear.

My friend.

It had given him such a warm feeling to hear himself described that way. He’d used the same phrase to Jack about Alexander and now it had been applied to him and that felt better than good. He pondered the feeling for a long moment and realized that it was because they were now on an equal footing. They both knew about each other’s pasts and accepted them. That felt incredibly liberating, Vincent decided while his eyes closed.

My friend.

*******************


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Originally written and posted 9 December 2000, revised 14 April 2001
> 
> The characters from the TV show don’t belong to me but I’m treating them a lot better than those writers ever did. But the original characters you’ll find are mine and I’d prefer that you don’t use them without permission.

Part three  
************************ 

Vincent sat down slowly and rested his head against the high-backed chair. It had been a long three days of digging but the damage from the minor quake that had shaken their world was now repaired. Replaying the events of the last seventy-two hours, he found himself frowning. Something wasn’t right. Someone was missing. In the uproar following the quake, they had done a count of their community. Everyone was present and accounted for except for those Above.

Good heavens, Alexander. 

He sprang up and headed for the door. The pools first then he’d check his rooms down on C level. How could he have forgotten the look of fear on his friend’s face? How could he have let him go without a comforting word or a thank you for his bravery? Had he gotten so callused that he just assumed that everyone would react the way he did?

Those uncomfortable questions plagued him all the way down to the hot springs where a large number of the tunnel dwellers had taken refuge. Too many people. Alexander would seek the quiet places, the dark corners of which his world had many. Closing his eyes, he sent out his senses but everywhere was noise, talk, chatter and even singing.

Farther below, in the calm unlit tunnels, some still unexplored by even him. That’s where Alexander would go. He strode out, content in his knowledge that Father and Mary would keep small Jacob safe, even if he had to be gone all night. He was not leaving Alexander alone with his demons. Pausing at Paschal’s rooms, Vincent gave him the message he was to send if anyone asked for him and asked if he’d heard anything on the pipes about his missing friend.

Paschal shrugged helplessly and shook his head. Vincent kept back a sigh and left for level C. Why was it that everyone was always forgetting about Alexander? More of them knew where Narcissa’s rooms were than where their resident explosives expert made his home. He’d tried to correct that a little by mentioning his work and reminding the others of how much easier he made some of their excavations. But their normal response to that was a blank look or one of those statements that Catherine had always called a ‘that’s nice, dear’ comment.

It angered and saddened him at the same time. He spoken of it to Father but the patriarch had counseled him to be patient and let the others get to know him on his terms. But aside from the occasional dinner with Kanin and Olivia, Alexander never ventured into the more settled tunnels. But when something went wrong, he always came and helped until the emergency was over before disappearing again.

Reaching the chamber of the winds, Vincent took a deep breath and let it out into the cacophony of noise that roared here. He always felt so free here. Free of the expectations of the others, free of the hundred and one things that needed to be done; free of the ghosts that crowded the tunnels. He felt younger here somehow as if here he could play the way he’d played as a boy with Devon. At the foot of the steps, he paused.

Did he see Alexander as a substitute for his foster brother?

He thought for a long moment, his hearing not picking up any human sounds. No, he decided, Devon and Alexander were both dark-complected but there the resemblance ended. In fact, he couldn’t think of anyone more unlike his brother than the scarred man who was so silent about his feelings. So why did he persist in drawing him into his life?

My friend.

It all came down to that. Alexander was his friend and the dark explosive expert had been one of the catalysts in bringing him back to life after Catherine’s death. His friendship was precious and he’d been through too much in his life for Vincent to leave him on his own now.

But his rooms were dark and empty.

Vincent thought for a long moment. In the six months since he’d met Alexander in the hot springs, they had spoken often and visited most of the sights of the Tunnels. Alexander had an affinity to water and he’d once mentioned the underground river that Vincent remembered with a shudder. Could he have gone that deep?

A whisper of humming came from further down the dark tunnel outside of Alexander’s door. He cocked his head towards it and thought it sounded like his oldest friend, Narcissa. Might Alexander have taken refuge with her? Vincent began the long descent to her familiar chambers. As a boy, he’d often fled to the elderly black woman for solace from teasing or stories of the spirit world or just to sit with her and listen to the winds that whispered through her rooms.

The lantern he carried was the only spark of light down here. The chill was constant now and he was glad that his cloak was heavy. Catherine had always teased him about all of his layers. For a moment, he could almost hear her laughter and he smiled at the sweet memory. There was still so much of that dark time before her death that he couldn’t remember.

The humming was louder now and he recognized the lullaby that Catherine had sung to Ellie before her death. How had Narcissa heard it? He often found himself humming it to small Jacob so the baby would have something of Catherine to go to sleep with. That and her rabbit that he was finally able to clutch to himself were two of the gifts that his mother had left him.

The entrance to Narcissa’s chamber loomed up and he stopped just outside. 

“Come in, Veen-cent. It is good that you come.” Her familiar voice came from the darkness and he stepped inside to see the small fire in the middle of the room. She sat in a low chair like a queen of the night, straight-backed and with her head held high. Her sightless eyes came to him as they always did. “What do you seek, Veen-cent?”

“My friend, Alexander. He was upset when he left us and I need to know that he’s all right.” Vincent knelt on the other side of the fire across from her.

“Fear. Fear and loss. Those are the demons that rule a shackled heart. Have you ever been afraid, child?” Her head tilted and Vincent remembered how he’d always thought that the spirits were speaking to her.

“Yes, I have been afraid.” He acknowledged. “Afraid of myself, that I might hurt others. Afraid that I hurt Catherine and led her to her death. Afraid that I will hurt others with my bestial side.”

“The beast, Veen-cent, who is he?”

And Vincent sat on the ground by her fire and said his worst fear out loud. “He is myself, the part of me that must never be allowed to see the light of day.”

Her chuckle sounded very loud. “We all have beasts inside of us, child. And some beasts are terr-r-rible creatures. But our beasts are a part of us. They give us strength when our fear is overpowering. When all hope is gone, then the beast will have his day. Is all your hope gone, Veen-cent?”

“No, Narcissa, Catherine left me a fine son and he is the hope of my future.”

“And how was he conceived, child? Out of fear or out of love?”

Vincent swallowed hard. “As she lay dying, she said that we had . . . loved.”

“Did she lie?”

“I don’t know. I don’t remember any of it.” Vincent bowed his head and let his hair cover his face.

“But it was the beast in the cave, wasn’t it, the part of you that you hate and fear? How could he have loved your Catherine?” Her words brought up his deepest fear.

“I don’t know, Narcissa. I don’t know.”

“Don’t taunt him, Narcissa. He has burdens enough.” Another voice came wearily into the room and Vincent saw the dim shape of his friend join them from the back room of Narcissa’s cave.

Her chuckle raised the hairs on the back of Vincent’s neck. “Two of you, two fears and two souls that battle dark beasts. Would you be rid of them, Veen-cent and Alex-a-a-ander?”

“Is there a way to remember what is lost?” Vincent kept his eyes on his old friend, only noticing out of the corner that Alexander looked drawn and haggard.

“Nothing is ever completely lost, child. But there is a price, all things have a price.” She nodded beneath her gaily-colored turban, her white-filmed eyes staring into the everlasting dark. “And what of you, dark one, would you pay a price?”

“I pay every hour of every day for my mistake.” Alexander said wearily.

“No, would you pay for Veen-cent to be free of his fear?”

Vincent saw the dark head come up and look at him, his violet eyes almost black in the dim light. “What do you mean?”

“And Veen-cent, would you pay for Alex-a-a-ander to be free of his fear?”

“Is it possible, Narcissa?” Vincent’s eyes would not let the other’s go. “If I could take the regret and pain from him, then yes, I would.”

“Would it bring back Vincent’s memories of the time he loved Catherine?” The husky voice was uncertain for the first time since he’d met the explosive expert.

“With love, all things are possible, children. Do you make this bargain equally, to share the other’s fear as if it were your own? To take it from the other, never to return?”

“I would spare you the pain of my mistakes, Vincent.” Alexander rubbed his eyes and sighed. “But if it brought you the memories you seek then I will share them.”

“If I could relieve the aching longing that I see in your eyes when you look at a child and your horror at failing again what you could not control, then I am willing for you to see the worst of who I am.” Vincent was afraid, more deeply afraid then when he’d first heard the sound of another heartbeat echoing in his mind and realized that it was his son’s.

“Good, a bargain is made. Friend will help friend and fear will be shared. Sit you, side by side.” She directed them and Alexander moved a foot so he was at Vincent’s side. Vincent sat cross-legged, his knee almost touching Alexander’s.

“What do we have to do, Narcissa?” Alexander asked quietly.

“Nothing. Your guides will come to show you the way. They are familiar spirits who wish to leave you a gift. Breathe deep and relax. Watch the fire, there are only weary souls here, longing for peace.” Her eyes closed and Vincent could have sworn he heard her chuckle.

“Well, it is past time, my husband, for you to acknowledge me.”

Vincent heard the bell-like tones of a laughing voice and felt Alexander shudder beside him. Reaching out a hand, he laid it gently on the knee beside his.

“Ming, I didn’t think I’d ever hear your voice again.” There was so much pain in the husky voice and Vincent suddenly saw an explosion of fire, red flames and black smoke with heat that singed heart and lungs. Nuns holding children, small children crying and holding onto the nearest skirt, a young Alexander in uniform and short hair holding two children while herding three others towards a grove of ragged looking trees. 

“I love you dearly, my Alexander but I’d rather be remembered with joy than with guilt and pain. It was not your fault that James and I died. I went back in knowing it was dangerous, if any bear guilt it is me.”

Alexander shook his head. “Not your fault, little Ming, mine for not working faster and getting you and James out of Vietnam.”

“Sweet love, you worked night and day to get our papers. You could have slipped us across the border at least twice but I was the one who wouldn’t go. Did I ever tell you why, my Alexander?” 

The soft voice sounded as if it were right beside them and Vincent could have sworn that he felt the brush of silk against his cheek.

“My sister was one of the nuns at the orphanage where we waited. She was trying to get the children out of the country and I was helping her. We were so close when the final attack happened. She was one of the first to die that day and in my grief, I lost sight of James. He knew that his Aunt Li was inside the building and that I was crying for her. So, he went back in to bring her out to me. It was truly my fault that he went back. In my grief and terror, I tried to save him and instead lost both of you that day. I watched you year after year, grieving for me and bitterly closing yourself off from love. Oh, my Alexander, if I could have only spoken to you then, let you see that it was not your fault.”

A tear was trickling down the scarred face. “I got lost somewhere along the way, Ming. Every time I saw a child or heard a laughing baby, I’d freeze inside. Then, two days ago, I had to rescue one of the tunnel children and I almost didn’t. I almost froze again and let another child die.”

“Oh, my love. Did you think that James does not know how much you loved him? That he blamed you for letting him die? Oh, Alexander, he loves you, as do I. Let the fear go and let the children back in. You didn’t fail James and you didn’t fail little Oliver. Come and feel again.”

Vincent felt a sudden lift of spirits and closed his eyes. Afterwards he tried to remember what he had seen but all that was left was a wash of color and light that lit up the room like a rainbow after the storm. He heard a child’s chortle and Ming’s laughter mix with the deep chuckle that he’d only heard twice since meeting Alexander.

He was smiling and crying at the same time when he opened his eyes, looking at Alexander and seeing the same expression that he knew was on his face. The violet eyes opened and looked at him. Shaking his head, his husky voice had healing tears in it. “I love you, Ming. Take care of James and one of these days we’ll meet again in the light.”

“We love you too, my Alexander. Don’t be in a hurry. We have all the time in eternity. You promise not to brood, my dark knight?”

He ducked his head and smiled. “I promise not to brood . . . too much.”

“I couldn’t ask for more. And now, a friend of mine would like to speak with her Vincent. And Alexander, don’t forget to love because someone needs you. Sweet dreams, my dark knight.”

Vincent trembled and Alexander’s hand dropped over his, warming him with his strength. “Catherine?”

“Vincent. Thank you for finding Jacob. You’re doing such a good job with him. He’s loved and happy. His bright spirit shines in these dark tunnels with such joy that it’s a pleasure to see him. Are you finally ready to know what happened?” Her voice was as he remembered it, sweet and gentle with so much love in it that he could have wept.

“Probably not, but I need to know. You said we loved, Catherine. Did we truly?”

“Oh, sweetheart, of course we did. You could never hurt me, Vincent. When you split yourself in two with the impossible task of keeping all emotion under strict control, you created a schism that almost destroyed you. But do you know what brought you back? Love did. The one you called the beast, was just the part of you that needed and wanted. You both loved me, though and when I went in after you, I was met by the man I loved with all my heart and soul. You were in terrible condition but ready to kill yourself rather than hurt me. So, I gave myself to you and when we lay together, you gave both of you to me. Maybe I should have not taken you physically but . . . oh, Vincent, I loved you so much that I couldn’t pass up the chance to make love. Please say you forgive me.”

“I forgive you freely, Catherine.” Vincent stopped to wipe his eyes with the hand that Alexander wasn’t holding. “But why can’t I remember? Why would I wipe out the memory of loving and joy?”

“Sweetheart, you are still trying to deny the emotions that frighten you. Love is a pretty scary business, Vincent and sometimes you can lose control. And that is your greatest fear, love, that you will lose control and hurt someone. But you lost control that night and you didn’t hurt me in the least. In fact, you gave me my greatest blessing. Jacob is worth everything that happened. And now, I need your forgiveness, Vincent.”

“Anything, Catherine, but you did nothing wrong.” Vincent felt a cool breeze touch his cheek and almost he could feel her lips on his cheek.

“Yes, I did, Vincent. I kept investigating that damn black book even after I knew how dangerous it was. I had to prove myself and fight back against the corruption that was invading the DA’s office. Even after I knew I was pregnant, I kept on fighting. And for that, I need your forgiveness. I should have come Below, thrown myself on Father’s mercy and had our son in safety. But I left it too late and almost destroyed you both.”

Vincent felt his emotions swirl in a tidal pool of feeling, first one way then another until he felt dizzy. “I don’t know what might have been, Catherine. You did what you thought right and you made that decision believing that . . . no one Below would help you. Father’s animosity denied you the place you should have had by my side. My battle with myself denied you my love and memory. You investigated and were taken by an evil man who thought he was God. But if you truly think you need my forgiveness then it is yours, freely and openly. But only if you forgive me for trying to deny my love for you.”

“Oh Vincent, my sweet love. Look and see what you forgot.”

He felt her hand in his and his eyes closed tight while her lips covered his, teasing his mouth open for their tongues. And then against the backdrop of his eyelids, he saw them together. In the dim light of the single lantern, he saw himself rush at her and stop, a look of indecision on his face. He saw her reach for him and watched the dark beast fall into her arms, bearing them both to the ground.

His dark brother held her and wouldn’t let go, all the while she whispered to him, words he no longer understood. Watched as she kissed him over and over, her hands checking his body for wounds. Their clothing was pushed aside and he watched his brother’s hands touch her breast as if he’d never seen one before.

“Not your brother, Vincent, it is you. Can you finally see?” 

“Let go, Vincent, I’ll catch you when you fall.” Alexander’s voice was strong and he gave a sob . . . 

. . . and let himself become his dark brother. Catherine’s flesh was warm and he was so cold. Her words crooned and pierced his heart with the love he heard there. Her hands stroked him, told him that she loved him with every soft caress. His hands were clumsy but they didn’t hurt her, instead they made her gasp and moan his name. She was open to him and when she pushed him onto his back and freed his sex, he shivered. But then his hard flesh was sliding into her and he’d never felt anything like it before.

Warmth, wetness and tight constriction that massaged him into an excitement that he feared. But she gentled him with her voice and hands while taking all of him inside of her. Then she began to move and that was even better because she was smiling down at him and the joy on her face came from him. He knew that because she told him and he felt it with every pulse of his sex. Then she was moaning and he thrust up once and watched her shiver into a climax that rippled around his organ and ripped his release from him at the same moment.

She collapsed onto his chest and he held her close, whispering his love to her and hearing her love returned to him. The cave no longer felt so cold and he sighed as he fell asleep.

Opening his eyes, he remembered every moment of the cave and the love that they shared. Looking at Alexander, he saw the smile on his face that must be on his own. “We loved. I didn’t hurt her.”

“I know. I told you that it wasn’t in you.” The violet eyes wrinkled in silent laughter and Vincent blushed.

“Vincent, accept yourself as you are. Please remember that you created Jacob with love and tenderness. Let yourself love again. Don’t deny that great, strong heart that you carry inside of you. I will always love you and Jacob.”

“Catherine, I will always hold you in my heart. I promise that Jacob will know that we loved.” Vincent felt a soft kiss on his lips.

“Love isn’t that far away, Vincent. Open your heart-sight and take a good look at someone who loves you for who you really are. Wherever I am, I’ll be loving you and wishing you joy. ‘Parting is such sweet sorrow that I shall say goodnight ‘til it be morrow.’ Shakespeare was right, my love. We’ll meet again in the light.”

Another swirl of warmth and Vincent felt Catherine’s last kiss before she was gone. But some of the warmth stayed behind and he opened his eyes to look into Alexander’s smiling gaze. “Were they really here?”

Narcissa’s chuckle reminded him that they weren’t alone. “Spirits come as they will, Veen-cent. Love will always win when your heart is open. Alex-a-a-ander, take this little one away with you. The past is no longer an enemy.”

“Thank you, Narcissa.” Alexander squeezed Vincent’s hand once before letting him go and standing. “I appreciate your hospitality.”

“Hah! Not often this old lady gets such pretty company, child. Remember the way.” She bowed her head and he bowed back before heading to the corner of the cave.

Vincent stood as well, feeling for the first time in a long time that he was whole and complete. “No more missing memories, Narcissa, that is one of the best gifts you could have given me.”

“Not me, child, your heart summoned and they answered. Now, go and leave this old woman to get her rest.” She leaned back against the chair and waved them away. “Alex-a-a-ander, don’t forget the springs I showed you.”

“I won’t, Narcissa. Good night.” He joined Vincent, carrying his battered backpack over one shoulder.

“There is a hot spring down this far?” Vincent asked him.

“It’s this way, Vincent. Did you really come down here to look for me?” The violet gaze slipped sideways to meet his.

“You are my friend, Alexander and I couldn’t leave you hurting if there was something that I could do to relieve the pain.” Vincent had never felt so light. “But I was the one in pain and now . . . it’s gone.”

Alexander chuckled. “It feels like a sore tooth has finally been pulled. I keep expecting it to be there and when I look for it, all I find is a bright space filled with love.”

Vincent blinked back tears at the note of wonder in his friend’s voice. “I know. Instead of a blank wall, I find memories of joy and love that I never expected to see.”

“Narcissa is a very special lady. She likes Cadbury chocolate so every couple of months I bring her down some of the little ladyfingers that she enjoys. When the emergency was over, I headed deep to bury the pain again and found my way to her.” Alexander led the way down a side corridor and Vincent heard a sound he’d never heard this deep before.

Gurgling water.

They left the narrow slit in the rock and came out into a grotto of unsurpassed beauty. The rocks seemed to glow with phosphorescence and Vincent gazed about him with delight. The pool was about twenty feet across and a miniature waterfall fell down the rocks at the back. The lantern he carried shed light only a few feet out but his keen eyes could see the shadows at the rear of the pool.

“It’s beautiful, Alexander.”

“It is indeed, my friend. I’ve been coming here for the last two months when the noise near the Home Center gets to be too much. So, we have towels and even a change of clothing if you’re willing to spend the time.” His voice was hopeful.

“More than willing especially after the last few hours.” Vincent was no longer so shy about undressing in front of his friend and he eyed the slightly steaming water with longing.

Alexander chuckled and began to undress. “Yes, we need to talk but at the moment that spring is calling my name and I need to soak away some of the tension that remains.”

The next few moments were spent undressing and sliding into the hundred-degree water. There was only one shelf at the right height to serve as a seat for men of their size so they sat side by side and relaxed against the slightly curved stone at the edge of the pool. Vincent could feel his muscles lengthen and grow heavy while the water swirled around his body.

Little bubbles burst against his skin and he found himself smiling at the effervescence. “This feels even more decadent than the home pools.”

“I think there’s some mineral in the water that acts like a giant fizzy when it’s forced up through the bottom of the pool. The more you move, the more it explodes against your skin. Decadent describes it pretty well.” Alexander’s eyes were closed but his lips were curved in a larger smile than Vincent had ever seen before.

He closed his eyes again and felt his own smile grow. They basked for a long time until Vincent felt the need to talk about what they’d both seen and heard. “May we talk now, Alexander? I was wondering if you saw the pictures of my memories the way I think I saw yours?”

His head turned towards Vincent and the violet eyes opened to gaze into his. “I saw you darkened and disheveled with your clothes in tatters and almost no sanity left in your face. And I saw Catherine like a bright light holding out her arms and taking you in with no fear in her. Your loving was beautiful and something I had no business seeing.”

Vincent blushed but couldn’t drop his eyes. “I saw buildings exploding, nuns holding children, you in uniform with short hair holding two children and trying to bring order out of chaos. And I wished only that I could take the pain of that memory away.”

“Did you see Ming or James?”

“I heard her and maybe felt her but James was a joyful light that made me smile and want to hold onto the memory.”

Tears slipped down Alexander’s cheeks. “He was indeed a bright light and a joyful spirit. Still is if tonight is any indication. I fought against feeling joy for so long that I cut myself off from all children; turned it into a phobia that almost cost that little boy his life.”

Vincent couldn’t stand to see that remnant of fear and his hand came out to touch the scarred cheek and wipe away the tears. “But you overcame the fear and still rescued him. He’s alive and well at home.”

Alexander closed his eyes and seemed to retreat inside himself. “I knew that you’d go in if I didn’t and I won’t let anything happen to you, Vincent.”

He thought about that statement, wondering why his friend seemed to fear making it. Helping each other was just what friends did. No matter the reason, Alexander had saved the child and that was the important thing. ‘I won’t let anything happen to you’. It gave him a warm sense of being cared for that he didn’t usually get from the others. Not since he was very small and since Catherine died had he felt that loving care.

Loving care.

His eyes widened and he thought back over the last few months. The times that Alexander had made him laugh, given him something to think about, wrestled him into a physical release of tension, reminded him of a life outside the tunnels and challenged him to prove that a four hundred year old poet/play write could still be relevant today.

“Well, Vincent, it looks like we’ll be prunes if we don’t get out now.” The brisk tones told him that his friend was in full retreat mode. “I’ll just get out and find the towels for . . .”

Vincent’s hand came up and held onto Alexander’s arm, halting him in mid sentence. “I know that I can be oblivious to others and that I can be a little . . . backward when it comes to relationships but by any chance . . . are you attracted to me?”

A sigh was his only answer.

“Because if you were . . .” Vincent took a deep breath that trembled. “If you were, I think I would have to say that,” his voice dropped to whisper, “that I am too.”

The muscles in the arm beneath his hand were tense and he wondered what his friend would do, while hoping with all his heart that he was reading him correctly.

“It’s too soon, Vincent. You just got your memories back and need time to reconcile your past and your present.” Alexander’s voice was uncertain and the eyes that finally met his showed only despair. “Rebounds are dangerous things and I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret.”

“I regret a great many things in my life, Alexander but your friendship is not one of them. My love for Catherine will always be a part of my soul but if she taught me anything, she taught me that a heart grows to accommodate the love it needs. Over the last six months, you gave me unconditional support and love that I depend on.”

“That’s friendship, Vincent, not the kind of love we’re talking about.” The humorous twist to his lips belied the pain that lurked beneath.

“I have many friends, Alexander but I have never been tempted to kiss them. In fact, except for an old flame and Catherine, I’ve never kissed anyone.” Vincent could still see indecision on his friend’s face and gathering his courage, he leaned forward and brushed his lips over the corner of the scarred mouth.

Alexander shook as if he’d contracted a chill. “Are you just experimenting, Vincent? Satisfying your curiosity about male loving?”

“No, I’m trying to satisfy my curiosity about Alexander-loving.” Vincent wanted more than anything for his friend to turn and look at him. “I know that I’m woefully inexperienced and it might not be a path that we’ll choose to take very far. But I finally feel free of all the past and I’d like to see where my future will take me.”

The thin lips quirked up just a little and Vincent watched hopefully as the dark head turned towards him. “Alexander-loving that sounds like something I’d given up hoping for. We’ll take it slow and steady. And I’ll try to satisfy our curiosity without messing up our friendship. Deal?”

Vincent blushed and nodded. Alexander looked at him steadily, the violet gaze searching his for some answer, that he seemed to find, because he was finally leaning towards him and in sheer nervousness, Vincent closed his eyes. The first touch of lips against his was just a brush then another and another until the tip of a tongue reached out to taste him and he had to gasp at the feeling.

The lips on his smiled and the tongue darted out again to trace a pattern of warmth on his that he’d never felt before. He wanted more so he parted his lips and the tongue brushed inside like a heat that exploded against his tongue and brought forth a moan that shocked him. And the warm mouth left his instantly, forcing his eyes open to look into an unsure gaze.

“Maybe that’s enough for now, Vincent. This might not be the best place to experiment.” Alexander’s hand cupped his face and a broad thumb caressed his lower lip. “Being naked and wet is sending all kinds of impossible thoughts through my mind.”

But Vincent didn’t want to stop now. “I’ve quit too many times before. Denied myself because I thought I’d hurt someone, forced my love into a mold that couldn’t hold it, and tried to stop feeling because Father taught me that was unwise for someone like me. Please don’t stop.”

“Oh, Vincent, unwise it might be but I want this too. I’m just not sure that this mold will fit you either.” He leaned in and kissed him again, this time deepening it a little and Vincent opened wider to get more of him inside.

Their tongues rubbed together and Vincent shivered from head to toe at the sensations rippling through him. Warmth, spice and something that tasted like his friend, filled his senses and his hands came up to touch the body beside him. But the ledge wasn’t wide enough for his turn and he felt himself slipping off their seat.

But strong arms caught him and then they were both standing in the middle of the pool, chest to chest and for the first time in his life, Vincent felt another male erection pressed against his. Alexander touched him gently and brought his eyes open. “This can be enough for now, Vincent. Or I can bring us both release while we kiss. Your choice.”

“I want release but I feel like I’m falling.” He was embarrassed by his lack of control but not fearful and that brought a smile to his face that sparked a smile from Alexander.

“I told you I’d catch you. Close your eyes and let it happen.” The husky voice sparked a warmth inside of Vincent that turned into a roaring fire when a strong hand gathered both of them into a firm grip and began to rub.

Vincent was panting into their kiss and when Alexander’s tongue retreated, his tongue followed. This was a whole new playing field and he explored the hot wet space that tasted so strongly of his friend. But all the time, he felt himself expanding while the hand stroked him so intimately. All too soon, he fell over the precipice with a moan and felt Alexander catch him.

A few moments later, he raised his head from the broad shoulder and smiled at the man holding him. “That was wonderful, Alexander. When can we do it again?”

The dark man began to laugh and Vincent held on to his body with both hands and enjoyed the sound. Finally tapering off, Alexander shook his head ruefully. “I haven’t been that quick off the mark for a very long time. We’ll need some recovery time, Vincent. First, we need to get out and dry. Then we can go back to my rooms or stay here. I found a nice little cave just around the bend and brought down a few things so I could stay overnight once in a while.”

“When the noise got to be too much?” Vincent asked tentatively.

“Exactly. The mattress is a single but if we sleep . . . close, that shouldn’t be a problem.” 

Vincent thought about his obligations and then about the man who’d just brought him so much pleasure. “Here. And when we go back, we’ll make a . . . a date to meet at your rooms.”

The quick smile was his reward and Alexander ducked his head almost shyly. “If you ever get a door, Vincent then we’ll see about your chambers. But now, come out before you turn into a prune.”

He went first and knelt on the side to extend a hand up for Vincent who was too busy looking his fill of the muscular body to feel embarrassed at also being seen. The towels were large, almost bath sheet size and their warmth was welcome in the chilly humid air of the cave. They dried themselves quickly and only stopped to grab their clothes and the lantern before heading thirty feet down the corridor to the small cave barely ten feet across where they had to duck to enter.

“Don’t stand up straight, Vincent or you’ll hit your head. It’s small but that makes it easier to heat. Hold the lantern for me and you’ll see.” Alexander handed off their light and pulled down an insulated blanket over the entrance, tying it down so the room immediately became cozier.

Vincent looked at the long mattress that stood on two wooden pallets to keep it from the floor. The heap of quilts promised warmth and an oak bookcase filled with tins told him that his growling stomach wouldn’t go hungry. A five-gallon water jug stood in a stand at the side of the entrance and it looked full.

“I even have tea, my friend.” The husky voice had an uncertain note in it that made Vincent want to hold him until it went away.

So he did. The bath sheets were all that kept them from touching all along their length. This kiss was a promise that Vincent gave freely, a promise that there would be time for more. When they broke apart this time, Alexander looked calmer and he cupped Vincent’s cheek again.

“Your instincts are impeccable, Vincent. This will take some getting used to but never doubt that I want it more than I’ve ever wanted anything. Why don’t you fix the bed while I unpack the backpack and get some tea? We’ll have to share a cup.” He smiled. “I wasn’t expecting company.”

“This was a place of retreat for you.” Vincent paused but Alexander’s lips took the rest of his question from him.

“Never doubt that you are welcome. I’ve dreamed of you here but never thought that dream might come true.” He shrugged ruefully and stepped away to pick up the backpack.

Vincent forced himself to move to the bed, straightening the quilts and folding them at the foot of the flannel clad mattress. Sitting cross-legged near them, he watched the graceful movements of the other. The bath sheet had dropped to the floor and he let himself look his fill instead of the sneak peeks he’d taken before. The scars were still extensive but they weren’t what drew his eyes. The organ that nestled between the long legs kept his attention while he replayed their lovemaking in the hot springs. 

“Vincent, if you keep looking at him like that, he’s going to rise again to play some more.” The husky chuckle didn’t even embarrass him because he had permission to look and touch. “Wrap those sexy hands around your tea before you think about wrapping them around anything else.”

And that did make him blush when he took the cup of tea from Alexander’s hand. “Catherine was the first one who told me my hands were beautiful. They were always the outward symbol of my . . . my otherness.”

The dark man knelt and stroked a gentle finger from wrist to fingertip. “Exotic, Vincent, along with your furry face that feels so good to my hands and your eyeteeth that stroke my tongue when you invite me inside. We’re all different to each other but I’d rather celebrate our differences then decry them.”

Vincent looked in awe at the man who accepted him and managed a strangled whisper. “Thank you.”

“You’re most assuredly welcome. Now move over and let me in, my feet are freezing.” The dark haired man smiled and joined him on the bed. The pallets creaked ominously and their eyes met until Alexander grinned. “Well, I’ve never broken a bed making love before but there’s always a first time.”

Vincent was in the middle of taking a sip of tea and he barely restrained himself from spraying it onto the man next to him. But when Alexander just laughed, he let his own smile out. They took turns drinking from the cup and Vincent thought it one of the most intimate things he’d ever done. When the tea was finished, he laid the cup aside and did what he’d always wanted to do, touch Alexander’s hair.

“It’s so soft and silky.” He said in astonishment. “It always reminded me of the horse in the children’s story, Black Beauty. I wondered what it would feel like.”

Alexander reached over and threaded his fingers through the golden curls that rested on Vincent’s shoulders. “I could say the same, my lion. When we were wrestling, I kept getting distracted by the feel of your hair on my skin, like a soft caress.”

Vincent was entranced by the curve of the broad shoulder and took a moment to run his fingers along the lean muscles that connected to the pectorals on Alexander’s chest. “I kept getting distracted by the play of these muscles under your skin. They always felt so alive to me as they flexed and rippled.”

A lean hand plucked his from his explorations and brought it to warm lips. “These fascinated me and I took every excuse I could to get their touch on my skin.” Turning it, he traced the lines in the palm with the tip of his tongue. “But I never thought I’d be able to investigate them so closely. Thank you, Vincent.”

“I think I’m the one who should be saying that,” Vincent couldn’t control his shiver at the strange sensation. “Oh.”

“Oh indeed. Lie with me, Vincent?” Alex leaned back and pulled him down on top of him. “Let me hold you and feel you next to me?”

“Yes, please.” Vincent had never lain with another without layers of cloth in between and his skin was so busy cataloging all the different textures that he almost didn’t notice that Alexander was pulling the quilts over them, wrapping them in a small cocoon of warmth. “Oh, that feels so good.”

“Indeed it does . . . explore away, my friend. Do you mind if I touch you too?”

Vincent wiggled just a little at the soft touch of hands at his waist. And that made something very interesting happen between their groins. “May I . . .”

Alexander chuckled and moved them to their sides, one of his hands sliding over Vincent’s hip and around to the beginning-to-harden organ. “Touch certainly and probably taste as well. Only you could bring me back so quickly. Let me show you an old trick that Ming taught me.”

Vincent gasped at the firm grip that started at the tip and pushed back the foreskin down to the root. Then Alexander disappeared beneath the quilt and soon his warm, wet mouth was taking in the flared crown of Vincent’s organ. He shook with the unexpectedness of the action and felt his friend’s talented tongue trace a pattern around the entire head before engulfing him completely.

He couldn’t help his moan but this time Alexander didn’t stop what he was doing. Instead, he chuckled around his mouthful and did something . . . that tightened all of Vincent’s muscles and tried to move his hips up into the delightful torment. But Alexander wasn’t done with him yet and slowly Vincent felt his entire organ taken into the heat of his lover’s keeping.

Gentle fingers rolled his sac between them and Vincent began to tremble all over. His hands found the dark silk that was teasing his groin and they held the head with unbelieving fingers while he tried to sort out all the impressions that were bombarding him. 

Heat.

Pressure.

Teasing.

Tension.

Tremors.

Want.

Need.

And finally it was all too much and he felt himself release into Alexander’s avidly sucking mouth. His whole body jerked with spasms and his hands fell to the mattress as all his strength left him. For a moment, he felt so light that he might have floated from the mattress but Alexander’s body kept him tethered to earth. The broad tongue kept lapping up the evidence of his climax and Vincent shivered with the need to hold him.

“Alexander, please.” His hands tugged on the broad shoulders and his lover obediently slid up to cover him with his warmth. “Kiss me?”

A smiling mouth slanted over his and for the first time, Vincent tasted himself. He tried to analyze it but Alexander’s erection was poking him in the stomach and he reached a hand between them to touch him gently. He’d never held another man’s organ before and his fingers slid down the shaft with questioning strokes.

Alexander pulled away to breathe and his violet eyes blazed down into Vincent’s. “Keep doing that and I’m going to come all over your hand.” An almost feline hiss came from between his smiling lips when Vincent closed his hand further around the thick organ. “Yes, that . . . do that again. Oh god, love, that feels so good.”

And Vincent felt a flush of pride that it was his touch that was bringing his lover such enjoyment. So he did it again and again, stroking a little harder each time and feeling the tiny movements of Alexander’s hips rocking against him. His other hand stroked the soft skin of his lover’s lower back and the flex of the long muscles there fascinated him. So much smoother than his own and this side had no scarring so no puckers impeded his exploration.

He hummed to himself while Alexander’s thrusting quickened and when he tightened his grip just a little, the dark man froze and swelled in his hand before bursting silently in long pulses against Vincent’s groin. Another flash of pride filled him and he found himself smiling into Alexander’s hair when his head slumped onto his shoulder.

“So very good, my lion. You have a magic touch.” The husky murmur swelled his heart further.

“I shall become prideful, Alexander, if you keep complimenting me.” He dared to tease the man in his arms.

The lean body shook silently and Vincent smiled smugly to himself. He liked releasing the laughter from his friend. But the softening organ in his hand reminded him that he had something else to try and he regretfully let it go so he could bring his hand to his lips. Alexander had drunk him down and now he wanted to know what he tasted like.

Slightly bitter and a little salty, he decided, going back for another lick of his fingers.

“That is one of the most erotic things I’ve ever seen, Vincent. What do you think of me?” Alexander shifted them so they were on their sides again.

“You taste good. More bitter than me, I think but a little salty like I was.”

“Everyone tastes a little different depending on their diet. You taste sweeter than anything I’ve ever tasted.” Alexander smiled at him and pulled him closer so they lay skin to skin. “I can see that I’ll soon become addicted to your fur, Vincent. You’re like a small furnace, warming me from head to toe.”

“Catherine always used to say that I was the perfect radiator.” Vincent returned the smile before a thought struck him. “You don’t mind that I speak of her so often?”

A kiss was his answer and it went on until they had to breathe. “She was your love and the mother of your son, my lion. If you don’t mind, I’d like to speak of Ming when I need to. That won’t bother you, will it?”

“No, I like to hear of her and your life before you came here. Why do you call me ‘my lion’?”

“Well, I can’t call you Vinny. And we haven’t been together long enough for me to call you ‘my love’. It fits your unique personality. Do you mind?” Alexander gazed into his eyes.

“No, it sounds . . . right, somehow. You’re not repulsed by my ‘fur’ or claws or fangs.” Vincent had never felt so sure before, not with anyone.

“They’re just part of what make you so special, Vincent. I’m a very lucky man to have you to hold and love.” 

The simple words brought tears to his eyes and he tried to smile but failed. The other man held him closer and sprinkled little kisses over his cheeks and nose, making sure to kiss away any tears that made their way out of his tightly shut eyes. “It’s all right, my lion, you’re safe here and it’s all right to let go. It’s been one hell of a day and we’re both a little punchy.”

Vincent sighed and relaxed into the warm arms that held him safe. He didn’t have to be the strong one now, didn’t have to put on a front or pretend that he wasn’t feeling bewildering emotions. The soft crooning in his ear soothed him and he held onto his new lover while he let all he was feeling out into the chill air of the small cave.

Some time later, he felt Alexander rouse and turn to extinguish the light. When he came back under the quilts, they curled around each other as if they’d always fallen asleep that way. Vincent made a solemn vow to himself to work at this relationship the way he hadn’t with Catherine. This time, he would not forego the love because of public opinion.

_Love isn’t that far away, Vincent. Parting is such sweet sorrow that I shall say goodnight ‘til it be morrow._

As always, Catherine and Shakespeare were right.

******************* 

“Right here, Cullen. I’ll hold it while you drill the holes.” Vincent politely but firmly directed the craftsman in the proper placing of the large wooden door.

“Are you sure, big guy? What brought this on? You’ve never had a door to your quarters in your life.” His furtive side-look amused Vincent but he kept his face serene.

“Then it’s about time, I had one. Don’t you think so, Cullen?”

“Right. Well, hold it steady.” The whine of the cordless drill biting into the solid rock finished conversation quite effectively and Vincent kept smiling thorough the entire procedure of fitting the hinges and closing bolt then hanging the door in place.

Finally, he was taking control of his own space, his own body and his own life. He’d grown up enough to make his own decisions and although Father had taken to eyeing him cautiously and asking hesitant questions about his health, he’d pleasantly turned back any and all inquiries into what he was doing.

He taught his classes, helped Kanin in constructing new rooms, played chess with Father and took care of small Jacob with unceasing good humor. The installation of the door was just one of the outward signs that something had changed. He was aware of the speculations that went on between the tunnel dwellers. Mary was a good source for the latest gossip because she’d embraced the changes in his life wholeheartedly and delighted in passing on the more bizarre rumors.

Leaving the door open for now, he waited for Alexander to return from what they’d taken to calling ‘his phobia therapy’. Small Jacob was pounding his cup on the highchair tray in anticipation of afternoon milk and cookies when he stopped and called out, “’Der, ‘Der, ‘Der.” 

“Hi, piggle-wiggle.” The dark haired man was dressed more formally than usual and Vincent finished putting the teapot on the table before sticking the warm milk bottle in his son’s hands. “Nice addition to the décor, Vincent.”

“I seem to remember something being said about my room, a door and staying over.” Vincent almost blushed at the heated look he received and he watched Alexander close the door behind him and push the bolt home. “How did everything go Above?”

“Well, I didn’t lose anybody. Nobody threw up. Everybody went into the museum and came back out again. No displays were destroyed although Mouse had a really great idea for rearranging the atomic clock model.” Alexander’s voice never varied its tone or cadence and Vincent was having a hard time containing his laughter. “Don’t hold back, my lion, you’ll do damage.”

Vincent coughed and poured the tea, meeting the dead pan gaze with twinkling blue eyes. 

“Shall I tell you what Mouse did to the salad bar at lunch?”

And Vincent lost complete control and roared his laughter out loud. Every time he looked at Alexander, a raised eyebrow would start him off again until finally he was down to a chuckle. Life was good and if the heated look in Alexander’s eyes was a promise, there were more good things still to come.

*******************


End file.
